Knackered
by deideiblueeyez
Summary: Vivian and Georgie unwind at their apartment. Set after the events of Episode 2.


**I fucking love this smartass pimp. Also very distraught that this pairing doesn't have enough love. :O**

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Georgie groaned appreciatively as Vivian's hands deftly kneaded the flesh of his mid-back, his spinal cord tattoo flexing as she massaged the worries out of her high-strung pimp. He muttered soft praises to her touches-"yes, right there"; "a little higher, love"; "no go back". She straddled his bum, thighs holding his hips snugly in place. She recalled a few times in the past when these two roles were reversed, when she was the one being treated and he was lavishing attention on her body. One of those times had been when she had experimented with a mundy drug-something called E-and she orgasmed from his touch alone no less than four times that night. Oh it had been quite an experience to say the least, but not one she wanted to repeat frequently.

"Vivian, what the fuck are we going to do?"

She paused, brows furrowed at the back of his stubbled head. His tone was completely out-of-character. Was she hearing...despair?

She stretched out across his back and murmured in what she hoped was a comforting way: "We'll think of something. Bigby still has a long way to go before he starts making sense of anything."

Georgie's face turned to regard her with a critical black eye. The tear drop mark on his cheek stretched as his gaze crinkled into a glare. "You saw him go into the back room, didn't ya? That bitch Nerissa must've said something to him. He got the fuck out right quick."

She retreated and tried to press on with her massage, but he was already tensing up, shutting down. "Even if she did, the Crooked Man will-"

"Don't say his fucking name-!" He twisted around to scream at her, nearly bucking her off of him in the process. "It's because of him that we're in this mess in the first place!" The bed creaked as his fist slammed into the mattress. He was livid.

Vivian pouted. "I'm sorry." She was unsure if he could hear his apology over his own muttered curses, some of them truly foul and vulgar even to her ears. Grudgingly he settled back into his original position like a cranky cat that had been disturbed from a nap.

"Ya shouldn't be." So he had heard. Well, then. "But fuck if you're not pissing me off talkin' about him when I'm tryin' to fuckin' relax." He propped himself on his elbows and reached out to a pack of cigarettes he kept stashed in one of the headboard cupboards.

The sound of his lighter flicking on and the clatter when he threw it moodily back. A smoky cherry scent immediately began to waft in the air.

He was silent for a few beats. She didn't want him to shut down and brood. That wasn't the point of this. She had wanted to treat him, help take the edge off. God damnit.

Vivian crawled off her pimp and slid up next to him with a hand lightly touching his shoulder. When he did not respond she directed his chin towards her. He scowled a little at that and turned away.

She spoke then, frustration now setting in. "Fuck, Georgie, come on! I didn't mean to.." Her voice trailed off as she watched him absentmindedly French inhale and then impatiently blow it out before she had time to finish.

"My mood has nowt to do with you." He finally said. He flicked some ash into a plastic cup in front of him before passing it to her. She took it with a soft "thanks" and took a short drag before returning it to his deft fingers which curled around hers in the exchange.

For a moment, she felt their bond. Fuck, "bond"? What a stupid word, "bond"...partnership? Mutual dependence? "Bond" made what "this" was sound sappy. Georgie would probably have agreed in that unsentimental way of his. That was one of his finer features, she found.

That split-second "moment" passed as quickly as it had come, with Georgie regarding her with an appraising eye.

"There's nuttin we can do about it now. Against my better judgment I let him have a peek at the ledger." Typical Georgie, spinning shit as if it had been his idea in the first place. It would have been amusing if the possible repercussions weren't so dire.

We just need to let him take care of it. Who knows, maybe he could 'persuade' Bigby to drop it..."

Vivian cracked her thumbs in her clenched fists distractedly. "And how's that gonna work? Bigby can't be called off, rabid dog he is-" (she paused at Georgie's mean-spirited "Ha!" at that comparison) "he isn't just going to-"

"Oh he will. He fucking will. It's the least anyone could fuckin' do for us after all the shit we've been through." He was getting riled up again. Shut him down. You suck at your job, Vivian. "My livelihood is in jeopardy and I'll be damned if I have to start all-the-fuck-over..!"

Vivian had enough. She plucked the cigarette from his hand. It was down to the butt and felt a little damp from how hard he had been sucking on it. "Hey, remember me? Yeah, I'm the girl that's been working her ass off to help you keep the place afloat. You think I don't know what's at stake? You think it's easy enchanting my friends into being mute sex dolls for that fucking creaky freak of nature's racket and God knows what else. You aren't the only one feeling the pressure, so quit acting like it's always been about you-!"

There was a blur and a smack and the filter flew out of her hand and onto the floor.

Tears prickled at the pain radiating from her cheek.

She didn't know what part of Georgie was being clenched harder, the fist that had slapped her or his jaw.

"Fuckin-!" He choked out.

Despite herself, Vivian let out a sniff and tried to wipe away the drama from her face before it consumed her. As soon as Georgie heard that, he groaned and began dragging his nails down the sides of his face, hard.

"Fuckin' fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

She inhaled. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. She could fix it. She could- "Georgie, you didn't mean it," she warbled. Keep it together. It was nothing. This was nothing. It was fucking nothing, nothing compared to everything else. "Y-you..it's fine. It doesn't hur-"

His hand reached out and grasped her wrist; a tug and a whirlwind of movement that her could not track, and she found herself pinned beneath him. Georgie's face leaned in close. His eyes were black, his grip on her upper arms hurt. His face was contorted in misdirected rage.

"Bollocks! I wolloped you! For fuck's sake, Vivian..!"

He was not himself.

She took another breath, but found that it had caught in her throat. The tears had started falling and his eyes watched their progress, lips pressed in a hard line. She took this moment to spit out her piece:

"Georgie, listen! It's f-fine. I know-I know you didn't meant to." She was grateful when he brushed away the tears from one of her cheeks. It gave her courage to continue, because it meant he was listening.

"I-" Breathe. "Georgie, it's okay to be scared. I don't want to lose what we have. We-we've worked so hard..and he-" Take your time. He's listening. Angry, but listening. "-he shows up and he takes and-and..it's dangerous and-and, fuck, I-I-I..I-"

His mouth sealed over hers and she closed her eyes. This was what she had wanted. This connection.

The first thing he said after breaking the kiss was, "I'm sorry, love. Stress is gettin' ta me, and we both know how much you put up with. The girls, me..." Another kiss, this one as chaste as Georgie was capable of, offset by the hand sliding beneath her babydoll nightie. His index finger found the small valley between her breasts and he stroked that strip of flesh tenderly. Vivian's assent echoed in Georgie's mouth as their tongues briefly touched. When this egotistical pimp leaned back to appraise his partner, he found her flushed and transparent, a rare sight for mortal or Fable eyes. Indeed, he was perhaps the only one who had been allowed to revel in her empathetic side. In public she was always on the defense, enshrouded with an air of confidence and more than a little cheek. She faked compliance flawlessly but led poor sods nowhere they wanted to be. A sweet diversion tied with a ribbon.

Nevertheless, for a naturally domineering individual like himself, seeing her like this...it was so tempting. It made him hard. But he maintained some semblence of consideration. Even he possessed a shred of empathy.

Vivian watched as Georgie's gaze morph from guileless tenderness to what she could only label impish. Her nails poked into his bare shoulder blades as he leaned down to nibble on her ear. Smooth finger tips ran down her side until they paused to hook into the waistband of her thong.

His whisper was hot and it pulsed right behind her eyes. "'Ey now, Viv, would ya like me to make it up to ya?"

Her reply was the lifting of her hips, lowered only after Georgie had successfully slid them down past her knees. Daintily she slipped one foot out of the garment and he threw it carelessly to the floor.  
...

When the tidal wave of pleasure hit Vivian, she voiced this endnote with a drawn-out moan. Very quickly Georgie shuddered and collapsed on top of her, his breath panting rapidly in her ear. A few pleased curses were extracted from the pimp for every pulse that made her clench around him, hoping to keep him in place.

Pulling out made a slick sound and Georgie unceremoniously flopped down on his own side of the bed with a wry smile on his face.

Vivian folded her hands over over her sweaty belly and closed her eyes. Eventually she somehow managed to fall asleep like that with cherry smoke wafting in her nose.


End file.
